TROUBLE WITH STEVE

Author : Jay Bee JBates3327@aol.com

Why is it than in any group of boys there is always one real pain? In the group of fifteen to seventeen and a half year olds I took charge of for the Council at the beginning of 1964 there were all sorts of boys. There were fat boys, thin boys, dark boys, fair boys, quiet boys, cheeky boys, nice boys and Steve. He was sixteen, nearly seventeen, with light brown hair and a slim firm body. He wasn’t quite as tall as my five foot eight but he was getting there. As I was almost nineteen he’d probably be taller than me soon.

Steve made his presence felt on the first day. He had joined us from another Council. He’d been working there for about six months before the re-organisation that brought him to us. Consequently he thought he knew it all. He was a clerical assistant in the personnel office. He could read our files. So as well as being a know all he had this air of superiority that really irritated me.

That first day I had to give all the new boys in my group a talk about the system the Council operated. I took them into a committee room and explained the general routine. Part of their terms of employment was that they had to do one session in the gym each Thursday at 5.00. I told them what kit to bring, where the school we used was and reminded them that they had to have a shower afterwards. Most of them just listened quietly. There were one or two questions about kit but otherwise they just stared at me or the floor and kept their thoughts to themselves.

Not Steve. He wanted to know why we had to do gym in the first place. He said it was stupid. I didn’t bother getting into an argument with him. I just suggested that if he didn’t like it he should see Mr Arnold the Town Clerk. That shut him up; although he had to mutter something about the unions. I let it go. I knew what reaction he’d get if he tried to get them involved. They’d just laugh. The unions were firmly behind the Council’s policy on dealing with us boys.

"Right," I concluded. "The only other thing I’ve got to deal with is discipline. All of you will have signed the form accepting that the Council can use corporal punishment on you until you are twenty. Your parents will have signed as well."

A row of anxious faces looked at me. Even Steve kept quiet. They must have known this was coming. I explained how the system operated. If they were in trouble they’d be sent to me with a note. I told them where to find my office. I was about to go on when there was an interruption.

"But what if we think it’s unfair?" Steve wanted to know.

"Then you can take it up with me. If I think you’re right I’ll discuss it with Mr Edwards who’s in charge of all of us. If I decide its fair you can go direct to Mr Edwards. After that though you either accept it or leave the Council."

"That’s not fair," Steve muttered.

"Well that’s the way it is," I snapped. "To continue. Usually you’ll get it at 5.15 or 4.30 on Thursdays; although if Mr Edwards is dealing with one of us older boys it may be later. I’ll let you know. Now follow me to the basement."

There was the usual shuffling and muttering as we left the room. I could hear Steve wingeing on but no one seemed very interested. We walked down the dank steps and into the ill lit, deserted basement. I led them to the office that was used for punishment. It was situated half way along a row of similar shells of rooms that had been hastily put together during the war and had remained unused ever since. The only reason for Mr Edwards using this one was that it was directly under one of the few lights. The boys crowded in.

"You’ll wait outside the door until called in," I continued. "Then you come and stand in front of the desk. After a brief chat I’ll decide what you’re to have; the strap, the cane or both."

"You decide," Steve sneered.

"Yes Steve, I decide," I said firmly. "If you don’t like it you can always go to Mr Edwards with it but the end result is likely to be more not less."

I turned to the metal cupboard and unlocked it. You could have heard a pin drop as I brought out the leather strap and put it on the desk. Two canes followed, a thin whippy one and a solid length of bamboo. One boy gasped at the sight of the canes. Even Steve looked worried.

"Over in the corner you see the horse," I pointed out. They all turned to look at it. "You go over to it, take your trousers and pants down and bend over it. There you stay until you’re told you can stand again. Is that clear."

There was a subdued nodding of heads.

"We get it bare?" one of them exclaimed.

"We do," I confirmed.

"Have you had it Jay?" asked another.

"Yeah I got six with the strap and three with that bamboo about two months ago. I don’t recommend it."

A few boys grinned weakly. I let them look at the horse and the canes for a bit. Some were obviously making resolutions about their future behaviour. I smiled to myself. With any luck I wouldn’t have to whack many of them. This had been one of Mr Edwards’ better ideas. When I dismissed them back to their offices it was a very thoughtful group of boys that made their way upstairs.

Thursday was gym night for my group. I had to be there to help out. Luckily I didn’t have do any gym myself, the older boys’ session was on Tuesdays. Here my role was to help Mr Edwards or who ever else was taking it, supervise the showers after and make sure everything was tidy before being the last one out.

The session started at 5.00 and went on for about an hour. I got there early and made sure the gym and changing room were available. Soon the boys drifted in. They got changed in near silence. I noticed one boy, Tom, had dark shorts instead of the white ones required. I didn’t say anything. Mr Edwards would soon put him straight.

Sure enough when I brought them into the gym Mr Edwards immediately latched on to the boy.

"That boy in the dark shorts, what’s your name?" he snapped.

"Tom Hinton, sir." Tom replied.

"Why haven’t you got white shorts like everyone else?" Mr Edwards wanted to know.

"I’m sorry sir, I forgot," said Tom beginning to look worried.

"Well perhaps I should ask Jay to take you back to the changing room, remove those shorts and pants and apply the sole of a gym shoe to your bare bottom six times. That would improve your memory wouldn’t it?"

There was dead silence. Poor Tom didn’t know what to answer. If he said no he’d had it, but saying yes could also result in a spanking. He kept quiet. I noticed his knees were trembling and his fists were tightly clenched. Mr Edwards let him wait.

"Alright," he said finally. "I’ll overlook it this once. But in future any boy who doesn’t have the correct kit gets six with the gym shoe. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," the group chorused.

The session started. Mr Edwards began fairly easily but after half an hour the sweat was dripping off every boy. I just stood to one side and admired the view. There were some really nice bottoms under those shorts. I looked forward to the showers after. At quarter to six Mr Edwards called a halt. He formed the boys in line and gave a terse assessment of their fitness. There would be rapid improvements. For now however they were dismissed. There wasn’t a boy present who didn’t sigh with relief. They trooped off to the changing room. Mr Edwards waved goodbye to me and disappeared. I was left in charge.

By the time I got to the showers there were already two or three naked boys waiting for me to turn them on. I did so slowly, letting the water warm up. Other boys came up and got under the spray. I leaned against the wall and took a good look. I was right. There were some really good figures on display. I noticed two bottoms that had been in the wars. One had four yellowing lines across it while the other showed the purple marks of the strap.

Then Martin came up. He was a fifteen year old, nearly the youngest in the group. I had admired him in his shorts. Without them he showed a bottom that just begged to be spanked. It was well rounded, firm and smooth with a fine white skin. As he got out of the showers he dropped his soap. He bent down in front of me to pick it up. My hand twitched. It took a lot of willpower not to land a good smack on that tempting target. He straightened up, grinned at me and sauntered off to get dressed. I took a vow that I would be extra careful about punishing him. It wouldn’t be right to do it because I wanted to.

Steve was another matter. As usual he whined about having to do gym in the first place. It wouldn’t have happened in his old Council. They knew how to treat boys properly, he boasted. I noticed that he was beginning to acquire a little group who listened to him. I looked at his firm cheeks in entirely another light. The sooner I could put the strap across them the better.

I got the opportunity earlier than I imagined. The next Monday I arrived at work in a sombre mood. Over the weekend I had been helping Alan, the planning officer I shared a room with, to clean his cottage. I managed to spill a lot of water in the bathroom. That stained the downstairs ceiling. I ended up getting ten with a miniature cricket bat on my bare bottom. It really stung on landing but also left some good bruises. I had to sit down a bit carefully.

Alan breezed into the office shortly after nine.

"Hi Jay," he grinned, "How’s the bum?"

"Still a bit sore," I smiled back. I didn’t resent him spanking me. I guess I deserved it. On the other hand I wished he hadn’t done it. But that was water under the bridge. I got on with some work. A little later Alan disappeared to do a site inspection. About quarter of an hour before the tea trolley was due at my door I decided to go to the loo.

In those days Councils were much more formal than they are now. There was nothing official, but there was one washroom that was only used by us boys. None of the adults went there. We wouldn’t dare use any of the others. So I made my way to ours. As I got inside I could hear someone crying in one of the cubicles. I asked if there was anything the matter. There was no reply. The sobs were stifled but as I was having a pee I could hear a lot of sighing and sniffling. I washed my hands thoughtfully. Then I made to leave the room. I opened the door and closed it loudly. But I didn’t go out. I stayed dead quiet and waited for whoever it was to leave.

A couple of minutes later the cubicle door opened. A boy came out. It was Martin. He made his way to the basins and splashed water over his face. He must have seen me in the mirror. He stiffened and gasped with shock. I walked over to him.

"OK Martin," I said softly. "Now what’s this all about?"

"Leave me alone," he sniffed. "Just go away."

"Martin I’m not just here to punish you," I told him. "I’m also here to help. If you’re in trouble I’m going to find out anyway. If something’s wrong then its silly not to tell me. I may be able to solve the problem for you. Even if I can’t you’re better off talking about it."

Tears welled up in his eyes again. There was a pause. Then it all came out. About six months ago his dad had been killed in a car crash. The police had said it was his dad’s fault. It had been in the papers. The family were getting over it; although his mum was still really down. Today he’d been walking quickly along one of the corridors on an errand for his boss. In his hurry he cut a corner. He bumped into Steve. Steve had sworn at him and said he should look where he was going. Then Steve had said something really nasty. He said that if Martin’s dad was like him it wasn’t surprising he’d crashed his car. Martin nearly went for him but Steve was quite a bit bigger. Steve’s parting shot was that he’d read about the crash in Martin’s file. He knew all about him.

By this time Martin was in floods of tears again. I held him in my arms and let him cry it out. Pete, one of my mates, walked in and was about to make a funny comment. I waved him away. This was too serious for that. At the same time I was furious. I would get Steve for this. But he was a sly one. I knew if I taxed him with it he’d deny everything. With only Martin’s word against him he’d probably get off. On the other hand if he was going around making comments like that some other boys would know. I decided to investigate.

I was careful not to approach any of the boys in Steve’s little clique. But ones I talked to were enough. He was boasting about how he knew everything. Apparently he’d read my file. He was telling people about how my mum had left when I was nine and that my dad had in effect thrown me out of the house at sixteen. There was a note in my file about it. To top it all he was going round explaining why I got whacked a couple of months ago. I seethed. But I knew I had to be cautious. I spent the next couple of days building a watertight case.

Thursday morning found me, Martin and two other boys in Mrs Carter’s office. She was the deputy head of personnel. She was a brisk, no nonsense woman in her late forties. Before coming to the Council she’d been an officer in the Wrens. I explained the situation. Martin and the others backed me up. Steve was summoned.

At first he tried to deny everything. We were conspiring against him. Mrs Carter wasn’t impressed. One of the boys, John, explained how Steve had been in the canteen laughing about my mum. Steve called him a liar. John nearly went for him. Mrs Carter asked who else had been there. John gave a couple of names. We were sent to another office. About twenty minutes later Mrs Carter called us back in. The other boys had confirmed John’s story. Steve went white.

"Well, Jay," Mrs Carter said sharply, " How do you propose to deal with him?"

"M me ma’am," I stammered. "But surely it wouldn’t be right for me to do it?"

"Jay, it’s your job and its entirely appropriate. So what‘s your sentence?"

I looked at Steve. He was trembling now. I was tempted to make it really severe. But I had got over most of my anger. If anything I felt a bit sorry for him.

"It’s his first offence ma’am," I said quietly. "Six with the strap and four with the light cane."

"Too lenient," she snapped. "I will not have boys in my department behaving in this way. You will give him six with the cane, not four."

"Yes ma’am," I agreed.

"Right you boys can go. Steven you stay here. I want a word with you."

I winced. A word from Mrs Carter was definitely to be avoided. She could take the skin off you without even trying.

"Be outside the basement office at 4.30," I told Steve as we left.

He nodded dumbly, tears forming in his eyes. I left him to his fate. As we walked away we could hear Mrs Carter’s cold, clipped voice beginning to tear him to shreds.

At 4.30 I made my way down to the basement. I had my punishment book with me. I had had a bit of an argument with Mr Edwards about that. He wanted me to send the boys to Mr Baxter, the hall porter, for it. I refused. No one minded being whacked. We accepted that. But to be publicly humiliated by Mr Baxter was really resented. For a moment I thought I had gone too far. But Mr Edwards gave in. I could have my own book. He would inspect it once a month.

Steve was fretting outside the office; pacing about and muttering to himself. As I came up he stood to one side and stared sullenly at me. I ignored him. I went into the room and put my book on the desk. I checked that the horse was in the right position and that the blankets over it were smooth. Then I unlocked the metal locker and took out the strap and the light cane. The cane reminded me of the one Mr Foster, my landlord, used when I was in trouble. It was called `Stinger’ and certainly lived up to its name. I put the cane and the strap on the desk and sat down behind it. I opened the punishment book, got a pen out and then called Steve in.

After a short pause he appeared. He shambled up to the desk and stood there glaring at me. I told him to stand at attention. Reluctantly he did as he was told. I let it go.

"Right," I told him. "I have to record the details of your punishment in the book."

"It’s not fair Jay," he whined. "I didn’t mean any harm. Anyway you shouldn’t be doing it. It’s not right."

"Steve, I went through that with Mrs Carter. Do you want to go back to her?"

"Oh no Jay," he said quickly. "That was terrible. No one’s ever spoken to me like that before."

"Then you’d better accept what’s about to happen, hadn’t you?"

"Yes Jay," he replied mournfully, staring at the floor.

I filled in the details required. Date and time, name, age, and a description of the offence. I made Steve come up with a description. He hummed and sulked. I lost patience and threatened to send him to Mrs Carter to get an answer from her. He shuddered.

" Misusing confidential information," he said quickly.

"Alright," I agreed and wrote the description in the book. "Punishment, six with the strap and six with the cane."

"Oh but Jay...."

"Steve that’s your punishment. If you don’t accept it you’ll be sacked. Clear?"

"Yes Jay. Please Jay. I’m sorry."

"It’s a bit late for that now Steve," I said firmly and entered his punishment in the book. Then I passed it to him.

"Sign in the next column please."

He sighed heavily, then leant forward and signed in the right place. As he straightened one of his hands brushed the cane. He snatched it away as if he’d been burnt. I took the book back and checked I’d done everything. The formalities were over. His punishment could begin.

"Ok Steve, go over to the horse."

"Please Jay," he said desperately. "Please don’t."

"Go and stand in front of the horse now Steve," I snapped.

He jerked at my tone as if I’d slapped him. Then, his eyes brimming with tears, he slowly turned and shuffled over to the horse. It was about waist height for him. He would present an almost perfect target.

"Take your jacket off and put in one side of the horse," I told him.

He half turned round. His lips moved silently. Then with a sob, he removed his jacket and folded it neatly on the blankets.

"Alright, now take your trousers and pants down, please."

He spun round at that. "I won’t. You can’t make me. I’ll take the whacks but not bare."

"Steve I’m not going to mess around. Either you drop your trousers in the next minute or you can go to Mrs Carter. We both know that means the sack, don’t we?"

"Yes Jay," he said in a small, trembling voice.

"Ok, turn back to the horse."

Moving in slow motion he once more faced his front. His hands moved to the fastenings of his trousers. He paused. He undid his belt. There was another pause. I moved impatiently in the chair. One by one he undid the buttons. Then with a sigh he let the trousers fall. They dropped to his ankles.

"Now your pants."

Once more he hesitated. I stood up. With a little squeak of fright he quickly grasped the hem of his pants and pulled them down. They fell to his knees. He pushed them all they way to the floor.

"Bend over. You’ll find a strut running between the legs of the horse. I suggest you get a good grip on that."

Reluctantly he bent forward. His bare bottom rose in the air. When he was all the way over I went up to him. I lifted the tail of his shirt high up his back. His pale, firm bottom gleamed in the light. He was breathing loudly. His whole body was trembling.

"Straighten your knees and get your legs apart," I ordered.

He obeyed. I stood back and looked at him. He was ready. I moved back to the desk and picked up the strap. I returned to stand beside him. I took up a good position and brought the strap to rest on his quivering bottom.

"Oh Jay, please Jay," he squealed. "I’m sorry, really I am."

I let the strap fall. I stood back a bit and took a good look at him. He was shaking like a leaf.

"Steve," I said firmly. "You came here a week ago full of airs and graces. You thought you were better than any of us; a real man. But I don’t see that. You know what I see? I see the bare bottom of a silly little boy. A bottom that is about to be soundly spanked."

"Oh no Jay," he wailed.

I didn’t reply. I got back into position and once more rested the strap on him. He shuddered and sighed but otherwise stayed still. I let him feel the cold leather for a moment. Then I lifted it away.

I drew it right behind me and let him have a really good one. It whipped through the air and landed on that firm bottom with a loud crack. He jerked and gasped with pain. As I brought the strap back for the second I could see a vivid broad red line appear on his cheeks. The next one was another scorcher. It got him in nearly the same place. He shivered and wriggled a bit but stayed quiet. The third drew another frantic gasp. He bounced up and down on his toes. The fourth was too much. Again I got him right across both cheeks. He howled. He jerked his head up. For a moment I thought he was going to stand, but he managed to stay down. His body was shaking. I let him settle then gave him the fifth. It got him slightly lower. He didn’t yell but I heard a muffled groan. The sixth drew another long howl. I stepped back and looked at him. His bottom was bright red. I could hear his faint sobs.

I glanced at my watch. It was twenty to five. We had to be at the gym at five. Still I could give him a minute or so to consider his sins. I put the strap back on the desk and picked up the cane. I tapped it lightly on my other hand. Even that hurt a bit. Steve was about to get six of the best. I looked once more at his bare, burning bottom. He was in for a very painful time. Hopefully it would do him good.

The boy had settled. His sobs had died down and he was sniffling and sighing. I walked back to him. I raised the cane and tapped it lightly on him to warn of what was to come. He squeaked with fear. I took no notice. I just lifted it up and whopped it down hard. It was a direct hit. He screamed and jumped up, his hands flying to his wounded bottom. Tears were streaming down his face.

"Please Jay, please. No more," he sobbed.

"More is what you’ll get if aren’t back down fast," I told him coldly.

He looked at me in disbelief. Then he sighed and bent back over the horse. I waited until he was properly positioned, lifted his shirt tail up again and let him have the second. It was another good one. Once more he howled his sorrow for his sins. He was jerking and writhing with the pain. I had to wait for him to still. The third got him a little low, almost on the crease with his legs. He screamed in agony. He was crying without restraint, all dignity gone. The fourth finished him. It was another hard whack across both those tender cheeks. He slumped against the horse and wailed his distress for all to hear. I didn’t pause. I gave him the last two in quick succession. He howled and cried, jiggling up and down on his toes.

I left him to it. I went over to the locker and put the cane and strap away. I locked the door and came to stand behind him. He was still shaking and whimpering. His bottom was well marked, with the thin lines of the cane standing out against the redness of the strap.

"Alright," I said softly. "You can stand up."

Slowly the well-spanked boy lifted himself up. When he was upright his hands sought his tender bottom. He gave it a cautious little rub then set to work to ease the pain away. His tears had almost dried. He just stood there for a minute, sniffing and sighing, rubbing at his scalded cheeks. I let him get dressed.

"Now," I said. "If I have any more problems with you it’ll be worse next time. Is that quite clear?"

"Yes Jay, thank you Jay," he muttered.

"Very well you can go. Don’t be late for gym. If Mr Edwards tells me to give you six with the gym shoe I won’t go easy on you because of this."

"Oh no Jay. I‘ll be there," he gasped then shot off like a rocket.

The gym session went through the usual routine. I admit to feeling for Steve when it came to sit-ups. It can’t have been a lot of fun sitting on that hard wooden floor. Each jerk upright must have brought a painful reminder of his recent ordeal. Eventually the session ended and the boys made for the showers. Once more I enjoyed the view. But there was someone missing. Where was Steve?

I looked into the changing room. He was getting dressed. He obviously didn’t want the others to see his shame. Well, he was out of luck.

"Steve," I snapped. "Get undressed and into the showers."

He looked at me resentfully. I could see he wanted to argue. But he didn’t dare. He made no move to obey me though. He just stood there glaring. I lost patience.

"Right, I’m going to count to ten. If you’re not in the showers by then you’ll get six with strap tomorrow for disobedience."

There was a deathly hush. The usual shower room chatter and banter dried up. Some of the boys were looking at me in fear. They’d not seen this side of me before.

"One," I started. "Two, three....."

Steve moved as if someone had given him an electric shock. His clothes were off in seconds. Then he sidled up to the showers. He really didn’t want the others to see his well marked bottom. I was at nine when he cautiously edged in.

"Turn round Steve," I said firmly.

He hesitated.

"One, two...."

Steve turned round. There were gasps of horror. I took another look. The marks of the strap were darkening but the lines of the cane were still vivid. I let the boys have a good stare. I noticed that quite a few were grinning. Others were pale. One or two lads rubbed their own round bottoms as if to reassure themselves they were alright. I told Steve to take his shower and wandered outside for a moment. A sudden burst of laughter made me hurry back in.

I might have guessed. Jim, one of the old hands, was having a race around the centre bench with another boy. Both were still naked after their shower. They didn’t see me come in. I stepped back a bit. They’d have to pass me in a second. Suddenly two bare bottoms flashed into view. I was ready. I landed a really good smack on Jim. He yelled and came to abrupt halt. He whirled round glaring, his fists coming up. Then he saw it was me. The fists dropped and the glare turned to a sheepish grin.

I looked for his partner in crime. It was Martin. He was stood stock still gazing at me. I walked up to him, turned him round, bent him slightly over one of my legs and gave his gorgeous bottom a firm whack. He yelped in shock.

"Right you two, get dressed," I grinned. "Some of us have homes to go to."

The two unrepentant villains grinned back. They walked off. I admired the red imprint of my hand on their white backsides. There were some advantages to the job after all.

Jay Bee